Giving Up
by CSIMel
Summary: She was the Velma to Emily’s Daphne. And Jake was so obviously Fred. [Heather POV Oneshot]


**GIVING UP**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Jericho or Anna Nalick. If I did, man, would that mid-season final be a hell of a lot different!**

**Rating: G, just some harmless angst.**

**A/N: I was fuming in episode 10, just because Emily was spending Thanksgiving with the Green's so you can imagine how angry I was episode 11. I was practically yelling at the TV, my Dad had to tell me to calm down multiple times. Anyhoo, this is my response, some Heather angst! Enjoy munchkins!

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_Driving away from the wreck of the day  
And the light's always red in the rear-view  
Desperately close to a coffin of hope  
I'd cheat destiny just to be near you  
If this is giving up, then I'm giving up  
If this is giving up, then I'm giving up, giving up  
On love, On love

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If Heather Lisinski was one thing, she was smart.

She was the type of kid that loved school.

The type of teenager that would rather read a book than go to the mall.

The type of woman whose idea of a great night was pizza, beer and an action movie.

She was extremely well read, had a firm grasp of auto mechanics and believed in the power of science.

But if she had learnt anything in life, it was this.

_Smart girls never win._

Her current situation was evidence of that.

It was Thanksgiving and she was sitting in the darkness of her dining room, with a single lit candle and half a bottle of wine. Her dinner lay forgotten, half-prepared on the bench.

In the back of her mind, she had kind of hoped he'd come over.

So, in the midst of all the uncertainty and fear, they could bring to light what was going on between them.

They could be thankful that they at least have each other.

But the harsh, heartbreaking truth was she didn't have him.

Not in the slightest.

No matter how hard she tried, no matter what she had to offer, he would never be hers.

At first, Heather thought she might have had a chance.

He looked at her with intrigue, with curiosity.

She looked at him with amazement and wonder.

Together, they would have been unstoppable. His strength and courage combined with her compassion and intellect.

_A super couple._

So she took a risk and kissed him. Kissed him with as much passion as she could muster. A kiss filled with desperation, desire and hope. She threw caution to the wind, took a chance, instead of analysing everything she did.

_'Watch out for giant, irradiated ants.'_

What the hell was she thinking?

Heather sat in the dark, doing what she did best – analysing the situation.

In hindsight, it was probably a mistake.

Wishful thinking.

Guys like Jake never fell for girls like Heather.

Not when they could have girls like Emily.

Beautiful, graceful, captivating.

Who drew a crowd simply by walking through the door.

Not that Heather was unattractive, no; she'd had her share of admirers.

But compared to Emily…

She was the Velma to Emily's Daphne. And Jake was so obviously Fred.

She'd read enough books and seen enough movies to know those sort of people always managed to find a way back to each other.

Sure, they'd face obstacle along the road, but love would conquer all.

That's what Heather was – an obstacle.

She knew she should be angry with Emily, who knew of her feelings, but had cast them aside for her own. But mostly, she was angry with herself.

For going against her better judgement and believing he could love her.

When his heart had belonged to another for a long time.

It was Emily, not Heather, sitting around the Green dining table, saying thanks.

Talking, laughing, eating.

Forgetting their troubles, if only for a night.

Making Heather's seem all the more painful.

All the more worse.

Because the truth of the matter was she was alone.

No one to turn to, no one to talk to.

Wishing she could crawl into a hole and disappear.

Because Heather was tired of worrying about tomorrow. Tired of being the only one trying to find solutions, whereas those in charge continued to find more and more problems.

Tired of feeling hopeless.

And the one person who could save her from her hopeless hell wasn't interested.

He'd rather play knight in shining armour to a 'real' damsel in distress.

Because smart girls like Heather don't need saving.

They find their own solutions.

They write their own endings.

And they do it alone.

_Fin.

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End file.
